A Song without Words
by LadyDevilBlessed
Summary: My first story. Hermione's parents die and leave her alone in the world. No one notices except one. Will Draco Malfoy help Hermione?
1. Chapter One

A Song without Words

Disclaimer: Not mine- except the story line. If it's similar to anyone else's story, I'm sorry, but I haven't seen it and did not write this with the intent of using it. Characters are not mine even though I would die with happiness if Ms. JK Rowling would let me have Draco. I'd even settle with a cute looking Blaise. But sigh they're not mine…

On with the story:

Chapter 1

Christmas Eve. Everyone in the castle was fast asleep, waiting for the next morning to come quickly. There was one pair of quiet feet through the cold stone hallways of Hogwarts School. The Head Girl could not sleep. Not now, not ever. Ever since that day in October Hermione Granger couldn't sleep. It was a horrible black letter that contained such poison in its words.

It came like any other mail. It was attached to the most beautiful barn owl she had ever laid her eyes on. Perhaps they chose that one to ease the pain. Maybe. She read the letter. Once, twice, thrice. She cried silently out there in the middle of the Great Hall where anyone and everyone could notice. But no one did. No one asked, "What's wrong, Hermione? You ok?" No worried looks, no looks at all.

Angry with herself and angry at everyone else, Hermione went up to the Head table and spoke quietly with Professor Dumbledore. He noticed that she was sad. Maybe the red eyes and red nose gave it away. Maybe it was the hitched voice or the teary eyes. Maybe.

She showed the letter to the old man. She waited for him to reach the end of the page before quietly asking, "May I be excused from classes today, Professor?" He gave a nod. That was it. No sympathy, no sad smile. There was just a nod and a return of the parchment. Murmuring a quiet thanks, Hermione turned and walked back to her seat, hoisted up her three times too heavy bag and tromped through the double doors.

Standing in front of a painting of a pine forest, Hermione whispered the password: Eternity. A path appeared and she stepped through. Alone in the common room she shared with the Head Boy, Hermione dropped her bag next to her cherry wood desk in a corner and curled up her cream and emerald sofa. The letter was still clutched within the confinements of her hand. She threw it onto the low oak table in front of her. She knew what poisonous words it held.

Dear Miss Granger,

I am terribly sorry to have to inform you of your parent's death. Early this morning your house was broken into and your parents attacked. We do not know what creature has done this, but there are long parallel slash marks in patterns of three. Currently we are searching for the whereabouts of the creature and will bring your parents some peace. We are terribly sorry for your loss. Please inform us via owl when you plan on coming to the Ministry to attend to the matters of your parent's funeral.

Sylvia Oldsen  
Grief committee

Hermione glared at the blaring piece of paper. Almost as if she was willing it to be wrong. But Hermione knew that what it said was true. Her parents were gone; she hadn't gotten the letter that she always gets in the morning. They are dead. Tears welled up in her chocolate swirled eyes. They were gone. Never would they be able to go skiing in the Alps, swimming in the Bahamas, having dinner in Paris, she would not be able to share any of that with her parents again.

She stood alone in the room. She stood alone in the world. No one was there to comfort her and she was surrounded in black. Turning, she pulled her suddenly weary body up her flight of stairs and into her fluffy bed. That day she cried herself to sleep.

Weeks have gone by and still no one noticed how withdrawn their Gryffindor Princess had become. Her friends didn't notice the lack of excitement that was normally present when they traveled from class to class. They didn't even realize when she stopped nagging them to do their homework. Even if they had girlfriends, one would expect that they would notice the drastic change in their best friend. But in the weeks that went by Harry and Ron didn't see their happy friend stay quiet in their free time. The only thing they did notice was the abrupt stop in her eagerness to answer the questions on her first day back.

And even then they only said, "Why didn't you answer that one, Hermione?" They didn't wonder why she missed an entire day of classes or her lack of eating during meals. Or the disappearance of her that lasted for three days.

Everyday was the same as the one before. She would watch the sun come up from her perch on her wide windowsill, take a hot shower and head to the hall. There she would take a sip of pumpkin juice and a nibble of food here and there before getting up early and leaving the hall alone. From there she would go to her classes and mechanically write notes and answer questions in a dull voice. All these changes happened and yet no one noticed. She didn't really care. If they weren't there before, they wouldn't help her now.

After dinner, Hermione would walk to the tower and do her homework quietly in her corner. Sometimes she would vaguely register that Malfoy's quill was scratching away on the other side of the room. He would still call her spiteful names, taunting her to snap back like she always did. But she would just stare up at him with her dim eyes and nod, whispering, "Sure, whatever you say, Malfoy." He would scowl and walk away. But that means nothing to her. Nothing matters anymore.

At night, after packing her book bag, things varied. Sometimes she would sit dangerously close to the fire. Other times she would walk the castle halls and grounds, but no matter what, they all ended with her sitting by her open bedroom window, waiting for the sun and the next day to arrive.

Christmas Eve. Everyone in the castle was fast asleep, waiting for the next morning to come quickly. Everyone except one, the Head Girl, Hermione Granger was walking quietly through the Halls. She reached her painting and vanished within.

The fire was low, so Hermione prodded it back to life. That night was one night she did not want to end. If she didn't see the sun then Christmas morning will never happen. So she wished. She sat; she was so close to the fire that night that she was almost kissing the hot flames. She leaned forward ever so slowly, mesmerized by the dance of the fire. A hand was on her shoulder and she was pulled away from the flames. Her concentration was broken and she looked at the hand, then its owner.

Draco Malfoy stood there with his hand clamped on her small shoulder. His grey blue eyes pierced into her chocolate one, analyzing her broken soul. Hermione held his gaze then blinked slowly once before turning back to the fire. Once again the tug of his hand brought her back. He shook hi head once, platinum hair falling around his face.

"Don't."

He pulled her up by her upper arm and pushed her onto her couch. After covering her with a blanket he retreated to his black and silver sofa, watching her as she continued to stare at the fireplace. Her mouth opened and she spoke softly.

"Don't what, Malfoy?" Her gaze didn't waver from the orange light.

"Just don't. Whatever you were planning, whatever you weren't planning. What ever is happening, just don't." He stared, his voice only a hair louder than her whisper.

For the first time, Hermione looked at Draco on her own accord. "No one notices me, Malfoy. They wouldn't notice if I flung myself out the astronomy tower or if I went swimming in the lake in the middle of winter. They didn't notice, didn't ask, didn't wonder, didn't worry. They don't even know that I have nothing to return to. No home, no family-"

"You don't have a house?" His voice was too loud. She shook her chestnut tresses.

"House, yes. HOME. No." She watched his confused face. She decided to explain. "A house, Malfoy, is nothing but a building. I have one of those. But I have no place to call a home anymore. Some place where I have happiness and protection. It violated that protection the day my parents were killed." At the word 'killed', Draco's face darkened.

"Do you know what…?"

"No. Parallel cuts in threes. That's all." He fell quiet and his face became passive.

"You say no on notices, Granger." She nodded, "You're wrong." Her head snapped up and there was a spark of her old self in her half-glare.

"I noticed."


	2. Chapter Two

A Song without Words

Disclaimer: Still not mine. All characters are owned by JK Rowling. Story line is all mine though.

Enjoy Chapter Two!

Chapter 2

"You what?" the fire died from her eyes and she had a bewildered look on her face. Before he could utter a word she started talking again. "Wait. Don't repeat that, I don't want to hear it." She covered her ears and turned her eyes to the pale ceiling, completely oblivious to the smirk playing on her flat mate's face.

Draco smirked, obviously. That was the most he had heard her speak since October. In truth he slightly missed the quick tongue of hers as she would snap back at his rude comments. The short sentences she had just uttered were the best sounds he had heard in a long while. He could also see that there was still a small spark of her old self. Standing off of his couch he walked over to the reclined girl.

"You know?" He hesitated. 'What am I going to say?' he thought rapidly. 'Oh well, too late to back out now.' He tapped the seat next to Hermione's shoulder. She uncovered her ears and slightly moved her head towards him.

"I know many things. But continue." He smirked, 'Good, she's still there.'

"I lost my mum last school year." Hermione's dark eyes widened ever so slightly. "Mother was the only reason I put up with Father. It's not like Dad is a bad person, but…he's human like everyone else. But is extraordinarily greedy. He didn't mind hurting others to get ahead in the game. It was better me than my mum. But she got sick and Dad didn't notice until too late."

"Didn't she do anything to try and get help?" Hermione looked at Draco's face. "Couldn't she call for a healer or something?"

"She could have, but for some reason she didn't. Anyway, that's not the point. The point of me bringing myself to mentioning this immensely tragic memory, to one of the people I have been feuding with fro the past several years of my life," he took a breath, "is to show you that I've been where you are. I've grieved before. I've grieved hard. And through different stages. I'm sure that you've felt them too. Denial, grief, solitude, hate, confusion, pain. But I've been watching…" Hermione's eyes showed surprise. Draco continued, "And I've seen something different between our cases. Take a guess?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a single deep breath, as she opened her eyes she spoke, "You were never grieving alone. In potions, you didn't answer Professor Snape's question he asked you. You looked lost, but so did your close friends. Parkinson and Zambini looked like that too. So the difference is that you weren't alone, but me… I am." She laid her head back against the cushion. Hermione hadn't spoken that much since the letter. She was quite exhausted.

Draco smiled at her. "Glad to know that your memories and senses are still sharp." He saw a frown line appear between her eyes. "To be truthful I was kind of worried about you. But now I know what's wrong. And I'm going to fix that."

"How. How does one 'fix' me? Especially when you are Draco Malfoy?" The frown vanished from her face.

"Easy. Don't let anyone else see." He stood up and grabbed Hermione off the couch. His touch was not loving, definitely nothing close to it, but pure understanding instead. Draco walked up to the Head Girl's room. Putting her on her feet he told her, "Change your clothes into something comfortable and come back down."

Hermione opened her door and disappeared behind the door as Draco headed to his room.

Hermione descended the stairs dressed in satin pajama pants and a matching shirt under a warm black dressing robe. She saw Draco sitting in his seat in front of the fire. His grayish eyes looked at her as she landed next to him. Tucking her feet under her butt, Hermione looked at the young man, her enemy, and her savior beside her.

"How do you plan on fixing me?"

"I never said I'm fixing you. I'm fixing the problem. Stop making it sound as if there's something wrong with you. There isn't, okay?" He looked sideways at the woman beside him. She was such a shadow of her old self. 'Once she gets through this, she'll be stronger than before. In only one way though.' The Slytherin thought to himself.

"Fine. How are you going to fix the problem?"

"Stop acting so negative. And it's 'we', no just me. You're doing the hard work." He was turning a sparkling something in his hand. "Christmas is tomorrow. It's my first one without my mum too. I thought I could handle it. I guess not." His voice choked slightly. " I couldn't sleep tonight, I didn't want to sleep."

Light flashed in his hands.

"You really miss your mother, don't you?" Hermione turned to face him. "What was she like?"

Draco smirked, "Always the nurturing aren't you, Hermione?"

Hermione was stunned. She blinked twice quickly, "You called me Hermione."

"Hm… I guess I did. Do you not want me too?" The boy turned his head to the brunette.

"No, it's ok. I guess. I just never heard you say my first name without malice." She smiled. "Anyway, back to nurturing…"

'Tables are turned aren't they?' Draco thought to himself. "Mother was dedicated, strong willed, beautiful, loving, and hard working. She works just as hard as our fleet of house elves. I once caught her being scolded by one of the kitchen elves for not being careful by the fire. She was learning how to cook; it was always a childhood dream of hers."

Hermione smiled.

"I loved Christmas holidays the most. Mum and I would hunt for the perfect present for Dad. And I would be in a house filled with happiness. Dad would come home early for dinner on Christmas Eve and take Christmas day off. I got this gift for Mum for this year's present. I bought it last Hogsmeade day, it was perfect and I forgot that she wouldn't open it tomorrow." He opened his hands; within his clutches was a crystal angel figurine. Only an inch and a half tall, Hermione could still see all the features on her face. The angel had a sad smile, a smile of rest, her eyes were closed, but she was watching. She held violets in her hands, each blossom a beautiful amethyst, the leaves peridots and emeralds.

"She loves it." Hermione whispered. Draco shifted his eyes from the figure and put her on the table as he looked at Hermione. "I bought my parents a present too. I don't know what to do with it."

"What did you get them?"

"A grand piano."

Thanks for reading. Feel free to review! hint hint


	3. Chapter Three

A Song without Words

Disclaimer: Still not mine

Thanks to all my reviewers! I love you guys. Thanks for reading my fanfic. It's nice to know that someone will spend time to read my weird writings! This is a slightly longer chapter... Sorry for the wait. - Kyra

Onto the story!

* * *

Chapter Three

"A grand piano?"

Draco was shocked to say the least. Those things were expensive; even a poorly made one. But not only do you need the money to buy it, you need the space to hold it as well.

"Yes. We gave our other one to the museum last year. It was an antique but stopped playing. All of the original parts were still in it. So Mum and Dad asked the nearby museum if they had any place in their 16th century room for a grand piano."

"Si-Six-Sixteenth Century?" Draco was glad that he put the angel on the table. He would have dropped it.

"Of course the piano I bought was recently made. I mean you can't compare a new piano made by Victor Borgar with a piano that Beethoven played on. But you know…" Hermione shrugged.

Draco almost chocked. Victor Borgar was the most talented piano maker for the past who knows how many years. His pianos could easily make a rich family poor. The poor teenager started to sputter.

"You… You... How rich ARE you?" Hermione blinked at him.

"Let's just say I can rival your bank account." She smiled in her mind. 'Of course he thinks I'm poor. I'm Mudblood Granger after all.' "Surprised, Malfoy?" She said out loud.

"Just a little." He looked like he was having problems breathing.

"Well I still don't know what I'm going to do with it. I guess I could send it back, since I don't play myself. But that's such a waste. I don't really want to leave it at home either…"

"Bring it here."

Hermione blinked at the comment. "Here? But that'll get rid of so much space."

"I wouldn't mind. Or you could ask Dumbledore if you could borrow a spare room."

"But why would I want to bring the piano here to begin with?" Hermione asked the blonde boy.

"To learn."

"You say that with such an obvious tone to it. Who will teach me?" She dreaded the answer.

"Me."

Hermione sighed but didn't fight. Draco was doing so much for her; she didn't want to seem ungrateful. "Thanks. I'll talk to Dumbledore in the morning about getting the piano here."

"Good. Now tell me about yourself."

* * *

Christmas morning found Hogwarts' Head students asleep on a couch curled around each other. Weird? Definitely, but hey, give them some credit, Hermione hadn't slept for weeks and she felt safe enough with Draco. Scary isn't it? They had spent the night reliving happy and sad and angry stories of their past. Around four forty Hermione laughed so hard she fell over onto Draco. Both were holding each other for support and eventually fell asleep in each others arms.

The sun streamed into the room and Hermione blinked her eyes open. Someone was playing with her hair, and that could only mean…

"Morning Draco."

"Morning Hermione. Sleep well?" Draco knew that she hadn't been sleeping recently. He could hear her breathing at night and he could see the fatigue in her eyes during classes.

"Yup. It's more the fact that I slept at all, I guess." Hermione smiled. She felt refreshed for the first time in the past two months. She didn't know if it was from the talking the previous night or the sleep. But either way she was grateful to Draco. Sitting up, Hermione felt Draco let go of her hair.

Her eyes scanned the room and landed on the small pile of wrapped gifts under the little tree the house elves put up for them.

"Presents!" She jumped up and grabbed Draco's arm.

"Hard to tell that you've been depressed for the past couple of months." Draco smiled at the newly energized girl.

"Oh," she frowned at him as he sat up. "Whatever." She pushed him back into the couch as he went to stand up. Running off she dove into the presents. She grabbed the closest one and checked the name.

"Heads up, Draco!" Tossing it to the couch she head him catch it with his Seeker reflexes.

"Don't throw them!" He laughed at her.

"It was in my way." She kept pushing all the presents behind her as they all read "Draco" or something of the sort. (Anything that said "To my Drakie-poo" was definitely not hers.) "Merlin! Why couldn't they put it all in a bag and label it 'For his Highness.' Good Grief."

"It would be easier with clean up." Draco muttered as he waked to another part of the pile and said, "Oi, Hermione. Set over to your side of the tree." He motioned to another pile, all labeled for the Gryffindor girl.

"Oh. Sorry." Hermione waded her way over to where the boy stood. When she reached her destination, she looked at the packages, threw her arms in the air and yelled, "PRESENTS!"

Promptly sitting down she summoned parchment, quill, and ink to her side. She started her tradition of making a list long ago right after she learned how to write. After getting the list prepared she tore into the wrapping.

Shaking with silent laughter, Draco waded through his packages and pulled four out. He put them on the ground near Hermione and opened his gifts.

Remus Lupin, their third year Defense teacher had sent Hermione a glass bottle of multicolored ink. She let out a squeak of happiness out before writing on her paper then showed Draco.

"Lookie! Isn't it neat? I'm going to have so much fun color coordinating my notes." She let Draco take the bottle out of her hand.

"Wow. Mind if I borrow it sometime?" He grinned slyly.

"Maybe. If you're good. What did you get?" Hermione retrieved her bottle and saw him hold up a book.

"Transfig book. It's from my Dad. He thinks I need to improve." He scowled. Hermione laughed.

"Next!" She ripped open another gift.

And so the morning continued.

* * *

A couple hours later found Hermione walking to the Headmaster's office alone. Despite her attitude that morning with Draco, she was struggling hard with herself not to run away and never turn around. Hermione believed that she owed Draco more than her cowardice. Stopping in front of the statue, she paused to take a relaxing breath.

"Raspberry Swirl Truffle."

The statue jumped to life and revealed the staircase. Mounting the steps, Hermione took calming breaths. It would be the first time that she would voluntarily talk to someone, other than Draco. She stepped onto the stone landing, took one last intake of air and knocked on the door.

"Come in." Dumbledore's voice floated through the oak door. Hermione grasped the handle and entered the office. The professor looked up and saw his Head Girl standing in front of his desk. "Miss Granger. A surprise, I must say, to see you here."

A flicker of annoyance flashed in the back of Hermione's head. Her face remained emotionless as she gave a nod of greeting to her Headmaster, "Happy Christmas, Professor Dumbledore."

"Happy Christmas." 'Not really,' Hermione retorted to her teacher in her mind. "Lemon Drop?"

"You know my answer, Professor. My parents do not approve of candy at any time. Least of all in the morning." Hermione blinked, "DID not. My parents did not approve." She corrected herself.

The old man placed his fingertips together and gazed at his top student. "What can I do for you, Miss Granger?" His face was devoid of emotion at her grammar tense correction.

Hermione opened her mouth to quickly explain her request.

* * *

Hermione slammed into the common room.

"He said he'll give me a room." Draco sat up in his chair where he was writing a letter. He gave a smile.

"When is it arriving?" He cleaned his quill and stood up.

"It'll be here by noon. I'll go check it after lunch." Hermione walked to her desk and noticed a roll of parchment. Picking it up, she made her way to her couch. "Dumbledore had the gall to wish me a happy Christmas. I can't believe it. He's seen so many deaths and even more pain yet he has no sympathy towards me. Not even an 'I'm sorry for your parent's death.'"

She looked down at the paper. Jumping up she thrust it into Draco's hand before running up to her room. The Head Boy could hear Hermione ripping her wardrobe doors open. Draco followed slowly reading the paper.

Dear Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy,

As a Christmas gift, the faculty is holding a ball this evening. All students are welcome. As our Heads we request you share a dance to open the ball. The ball is formal so please dress accordingly.

The ball will begin at six o'clock and will run until midnight. Because of your station we will allow you to visit Hogsmeade. Please be back before four o'clock and inform either myself or the Headmaster before leaving.

Have a pleasant day.

Professor McGonagall

Draco looked up from the paper and saw Hermione scowling at the clothes in her closet. She let out a groan and sat on the ground.

"Why didn't I pack any formal clothes this year?" She groaned to herself.

"The question should be why did you stray so far from your usual self and not finish reading the letter?" The blonde smirked as Hermione lunged toward him. Well not so much him as the letter.

"Give it to me." Hermione snatched it back and Draco got dizzy from watching her eyes flick back and forth over from one side of the page to the other.

"Let's go." Draco disappeared into his room and came back sticking his wallet into his robe as he donned the garment. Hermione nodded and mechanically got herself ready. She threw on her robe, cloak and a scarf. On her way out she grabbed her gloves and followed Draco out the room.

Thankfully, the pair ran into their Transfiguration teacher on their way out and didn't need to go around finding her.

On the road Draco brought up the piano again. "Which room did Dumbledore lend you?"

"It's Classroom 352 at the end of our hallway." Hermione rubbed her hands together to keep them warm as they made their way into the little town.

* * *

After looking unsuccessfully at three dress shops, Hermione stopped in the middle of the road and turned to face the blonde who was walking a few steps behind. She glared up at the man who looked positively lost as to the reason of the glare.

"Why are you following me everywhere? Don't you have some shopping to do yourself?"

"Nope."

Hermione's glare deepened. "Then why are you here at all?"

"I got a free excuse to get off school grounds; you think I'm going to pass that up?" He grinned devilishly. He heard her sigh.

"You are no normal guy. You have gone into all the shops with me and have given your opinion. Any normal guy would be off somewhere getting a hot drink. Not participating in the world's most boring sport." She let out a huff at the end of her speech.

"Man, not talking for the past month really weakened your lung capacity, you know? You used to give speeches twice as long without a hitch." His smirk widened as she spun on her heel. "Do I bother you with my presence?"

"Not really." She grunted under her breath.

"Then I don't see a problem." He spotted a store farther up the lane. He caught up with Hermione, grabbed her arm and steered her straight for the store.

* * *

They stepped into the store and Hermione gasped. "No way, Malfoy. This is way out of my league." She made for the door, but found said person in her way.

"Look it can't hurt to look, can it?"

"Are you insane?" She whacked his arm. "Putting a girl in a place with beautiful things she dreams about, which are out of her money pocket, and telling her it won't hurt to look at something she can't have, is the STUPIDEST thing you have ever done!" She glared at him.

"Well I must say this is a plus." Draco placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

"What?"

"I'm getting my old Granger back by pissing her off. Too bad you were unresponsive earlier. I would have been easier for you." He sniggered and gave a gentle push, "Look, I'll pay for the dress, but," he stopped her before she could interrupt, "I want to see you smile at least once tonight and talk with your friends. No arguing, I'm not taking a no. Now look."

Hermione was in pure confusion, but Draco left no room for any complaints from her. She disappeared into the folds of the dresses as she continued her hunt for the perfect dress.

Wow. I've got a lot of rambling in this one... Seriously I'm just putting this up as I write... So I really don't know where this is heading... Hopefully I'll get it to end properly... Yay! Onto the ball!

Love ya lots- Kyra


	4. Chapter Four

A Song without Words

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sorry to JK Rowling for ruining her characters.

WARNING: This chapter has some foul language. I bleeped most of it out. But it's still there. If anyone is at the young age of the spectrum read with caution and please don't tell anyone where you learned it from. Thanks.

Last Chapter!

Chapter Four

"I'm going down now, Hermione. You've got fifteen more minutes. Don't be late." Draco called through her door. "And remember our deal."

"I'm not like the other air headed girls at this school, Malfoy. And I do believe that you're insulting my intelligence again." He heard her call back as she prepared for the ball.

"Sorry. I'm leaving now." He waited for her chirp of : "Okay, I'll be down in a few more minutes" before leaving. As he walked down the halls he though of the certain Lioness with which he shared a common room. She definitely seemed to be doing better now after talking about her parents, but something was still off. 'She really needs to talk to her friends. I can't believe that they wouldn't help her. They're really protective and all…'

He pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and tugged at the cuff of his jacket. The hall glittered with magical frost. A dance floor was surrounded by tables that seated ten and fake snow fell overhead. Checking the time, Draco noticed that he still had ten minutes before the start of the ball. He continued to scan the room and his grayish eyes landed on his mentor. Deciding to pass the time, Draco went and started to chat with Snape.

* * *

Clasping her necklace on, Hermione gave herself one last look over. Her hair, make-up, jewelry, and dress were perfect. Smoothing the satin material of her dress with her hands, she remembered the little argument she had with Draco earlier. She wanted to pay for half of it at least, but the Slytherin refused point blank and paid for the dress. When she tried on the dress, he also refused to see it on her. He refused to see it at all, in fact. He told Hermione that no one will see it until the ball.

Slipping on her shoes, she checked the clock. She was still on time. Turning the lights off in the rooms, she walked through the deserted corridors to reach the Hall.

Five minutes before six, Hermione walked through the double doors and was amazed. Candles were floating at each table and the room was in semi-darkness. Spotting the Headmaster, Hermione decided not to talk with anyone. Disappearing into a shadowy corner she waited for the next five minutes. By six o'clock there were students sitting at tables waiting for Professor Dumbledore to start the ball.

"Good Evening. I hope that you will enjoy our ball. To open we will start with a dance. Will our Heads come share the first dance?" Professor Dumbledore watched as Draco moved to stand in the middle of the dance floor, awaiting his partner.

In her corner, Hermione brushed her hands on her dress to calm her nerves as she took a step. She walked from the back corner to stand in front of the Hall doors. Raising her chocolate brown eyes, she caught and held the gaze of Draco Malfoy as he stared at her. People turned in their seats to look at Hermione.

She walked forward to the dance floor. Her strappy high heels clicked on the stone floor as her skirt fluttered, kissing the ground. Stopping in front of Draco, she paused and gave a half curtsy to the Head Boy. She waited for him to respond; along with everyone in the room.

Draco let his eyes wander over Hermione as she made her way up to him. Her dark rose skirt whispered as she walked. Grey eyes gazed at the tamed dark curls to her pink lips. Over her bare shoulders to the tight form fitting top of her sleeveless dress that met, seamlessly to the simple A-line skirt. It was such a simple yet elegant dress and it matched Hermione's personality perfectly.

Bringing his eyes back to Hermione's face, he noticed her necklace. Giving a bow, he led Hermione into the dance. Placing one hand on her lower back he had the other lightly holding onto hers. They danced in silence until other couples joined them and the surrounding lights dimmed.

When he was sure that no one was paying attention, Draco leaned forward slightly and whispered, "Nice necklace. Is this the…?" Hermione nodded, removing her hand from his shoulder, she let her fingers run over the cool silver choker in the form of a phoenix, its flaming tail curled and rested at the base of her throat. "It's beautiful on you. Your mother would be so proud. Now smile like a good girl. I'm hungry. You coming?"

As the music changed, the two Heads reached their table that was set up by the front. Draco ordered his food and started eating. Hermione, on the other hand, poured herself a glass of sparkling cider and drank that instead. She had a grim look on her face. She flicked her eyes over the dance hall and noticed her friends laughing together at their table. Looking back at her drink, she heaved a sigh. 'I'm not ready. This is too hard.' She thought to herself.

Draco noticed her distressed look and tapped her hand. "If you want, I'll talk to them." Her gaze didn't move from her goblet. Taking her silence as an okay, he got off his seat and walked to the Gryffindors.

"Let's give them a wake up call."

* * *

Harry Potter was in the middle of a joke when Draco tapped him on the shoulder. The entire table fell quiet.

"What do you want, Ferret?" Ron spat out to the tall blonde.

"Just wanted to comment on this picture. Does anyone else see something missing? No?" He smirked, "You really are stupid without your brain, aren't you?"

"What are you getting at, Malfoy?" Harry looked up from his chair.

"It's funny. Even though I'm in Slytherin, I thought normal people stick with their friends when they're going through hardships. I must be wrong." Draco looked passively over the lions.

"Contrary to what you think, Malfoy, we enjoy our new found freedom. Hermione's parents' death, tragic? Yes. But you know?" Harry stood up. "We don't care."

Taken aback, Draco raised an eyebrow. "I think that you need to tell that to her face."

"Why should we?" Ron spat, once again, with malice.

"Get her off your back for good. Isn't it obvious? She thinks you're all still friends." Draco shifted his weight to lean on the chair behind him, ignoring the grumbling of the occupant.

"She should suffer." Lavender shot to the Slytherin.

"Wouldn't she suffer just as much now as any other time? And she won't bother you later. If you wait, she'll bother you until you tell her." Draco shrugged. "Whatever, not my problem." He walked off into the crowd, leaving the Gryffindors to decide.

* * *

Hermione lowered her glass and found Ron and Harry standing in front of her. She gave a weak smile and a small "Hey" to her boys.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione?" Harry asked her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's so painful. It's like…"

"Shut up."

Hermione's head shot up in surprise and locked with Ron's blue eyes.

"I enjoyed our silence, did you, Harry?"

"I completely agree. Don't talk to us ever again, Granger. You've caused us a whole lot of c. I hate it. I hate you. Good riddance." Harry threw something onto the table before turning to leave. Ron followed suit. A second thing fell on the table. Hermione jumped up in anger.

"After all we did together, you're going to end our friendship because I tell you to do your homework and study?" Grabbing a book, her gift to the boys, she chucked it at Harry. He caught it with his nimble skills.

"Did I ever leave you when you needed me? Huh, Harry? When you were grieving, did I ever leave your side because you were thinking irrationally? Did I ever leave you when you asked for comfort? For help? No, I didn't. I was there to help you. I watched your back, and yours too Ron! I looked out for your own good. I worried about you all during the summer break, all during winter break, hell I worried about you all f-ing year long! I looked up ways to help you every year you faced Voldemort. I taught you spells and tricks. How many times have I saved your life, you ungrateful piece of s? Huh and where were you when I needed you the most? For just once in your life you could have given back a little compassion. And you leave me."

"This is exactly what I was saying, wasn't it?" Ron looked at his best friend.

Hermione trembled on the spot. Harry turned to look at the girl who was standing in anger. "Yeah, Ron, exactly what you said. Granger," he tossed the book back on the table, "Despite what you have done for us. And I don't deny what you've done. It's still over." He walked off with Ron beside him.

"Ungrateful." Hermione whispered. Tears clouded her vision. She could tell that everyone was watching her. "Bstards." The word echoed in the silent hall.

Turning, she brushed past all the professors and disappeared into the depths of the castle.

* * *

The clock chimed two o'clock when Draco opened the door. Except for one candle the room was in complete darkness. Once he stepped inside the room he could hear the music she was playing. Shadows played across the walls as Hermione's fingers danced over the keys.

"And I thought you said you didn't play." Placing the angel figurine on top of the black top, he sat next to her on the piano bench.

"I don't. I sing. I would sing while my mum played piano." Hermione shifted into another song. "Now she's gone. And I'm never going to sing again. Never…"

"I told you, Hermione. They aren't gone until you forget." He draped his coat over her bare shoulders.

"Harry and Ron forgot me. Does that mean that I'm gone?"

"No." Draco started playing the piano with Hermione, matching her song in perfect harmony. "I remember you. And we will continue to play this song without words for as long as you want." He planted a light kiss on her hair.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered. "You say this is a song without words."

"Only you can sing to this one."

"Then someday. Someday I will sing to this song. A song without words."

* * *

The End

Thanks so much for reading. You're all the best. Let me know if you liked or disliked it.

See you around- Kyra


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